1 Thy presence why withdraws't thou, Lord?
why hid'st thou now thy face,
When dismal times of deep distress
call for thy wonted grace?
2 The wicked, swelled with lawless pride,
have made the poor their prey;
O let them fall by those designs
which they for others lay.
3 For straight they triumph, if success
their thriving crimes attend;
And sordid wretches, whom God hates,
perversely they commend.
4 To own a pow'r above themselves
their haughty pride disdains;
And therefore in their stubborn mind
no thought of God remains.
5 Oppressive methods they pursue,
and all their foes they slight;
Because thy judgments, unobserved,
are far above their sight.
6 They fondly think their prosp'rous state
shall unmolested be;
They think their vain designs shall thrive,
from all misfortune free.
7 Vain and deceitful is their speech,
with curses filled and lies;
By which the mischief of their heart
they study to disguise.
8 Near public roads they lie concealed,
and all their art employ,
The innocent and poor at once
to rifle and destroy.
9 Not lions, couching in their dens,
surprise their heedless prey
With greater cunning, or express
more savage rage than they.
10 Sometimes they act the harmless man,
and modest looks they wear;
That, so deceived, the poor may less
their sudden onset fear.
The Second Part,
11 For God, they think, no notice takes
of their unrighteous deeds;
never minds the suff'ring poor,
nor their oppression heeds.
12 But thou, O Lord, at length arise;
stretch forth thy mighty arm;
And by the greatness of thy pow'r,
defend the poor from harm.
13 No longer let the wicked vaunt,
and proudly boasting say,
"Tush, God regards not what we do;
he never will repay."
14 But sure thou seest, and all their deeds
impartially dost try;
The orphan, therefore, and the poor
on thee for aid rely.
15 Defenseless let the wicked fall,
of all their strength bereft;
Confound, O God, their dark designs,
till no remains are left.
16 Assert thy just dominion, Lord,
which shall for ever stand;
Thou, who the heathen didst expel
from this thy chosen land.
17 Thou dost the humble suppliants hear
that to thy throne repair;
Thou first prepar'st their hearts to pray,
and then accept'st their pray'r.
18 Thou in thy righteous judgment weigh'st
the fatherless and poor;
That so the tyrants of the earth
may persecute no more.